


Spooktober Horror Compilation

by Jhabois



Category: Banana Bus Squad, GoopCast, The Derp Crew, The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Established Relationship, Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gore, Halloween, Haunted 2019, Horror, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Killing, M/M, Magic, Multi, Sacrifice, Scary, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, TrickorTreat, Vampires, Werewolves, hints of depression, mental distress, no beta we die like men, questionable morals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 23:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20843831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jhabois/pseuds/Jhabois
Summary: A collection of scary stories for the month of October. Some long, some short, and with varying ratings per story. Will be updating the tags as I post.Kindly read the warnings posted on the notes before reading the chapter.





	1. Day 1: Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Moon  
Character: Brian [Terroriser]  
Prompt List from [ EchoingHowls ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoingHowls/pseuds/EchoingHowls)
> 
> Although this a horror centered compilation not all of the stories will be focused on pure horror, some will have softer themes but will still contain Halloween elements. Hope this makes sense and if it doesn’t, don’t worry you’ll see what I mean when I post the following chapters. Warnings will be placed before each chapter accordingly.
> 
> ** Warning: The chapter contains a bit of Gore and Blood **

It’s a common theme around the world to have legends and stories about numerous _chosen ones _who become heroes or heroines, especially picked by fate for one reason or another. These chosen ones often do complete their goal or whatever task was assigned to them. Victories a plenty and rewards raining down on them.

However, once in a blue moon there are chosen ones whose future is set to be terrible the moment they are born, cursed and forever will be.

This is one of their stories.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Bare feet hit the ground with harsh thuds but the man nearly slips while he runs through the undergrowth, the recent rain making parts of the ground soft. He curses under his breath as he quickly rights himself, he can’t afford to lose a single second, a single screw up can cost him his life. The rustling of the undergrowth behind him is a sign. They’re getting closer.

**Run.**

Throwing caution to the wind he sprints, dodging underlying branches above and protruding roots below. The darkness of the night doesn’t help but fortunately enough of the moonlight filters through the forest canopy to light the path for him. The crisp cold air bites at his exposed skin and he inwardly curses once more. He’s running through the forest stark naked, if they won’t catch him then the brutal temperatures eventually will.

He can feel his breaths become harsher, his muscles burning from exertion. He’s not used to this, this body wasn’t built to run this far. How long has he been running? It feels like forever. But the thought of being caught by them pushes him to run further, run faster.

Because if he stops everything will end. The fear and adrenaline keeps him going but he can’t help but think.

Where did it all go wrong?

One moment everything was fine and then it wasn’t.

His lungs are burning, every breath like sharp ice piercing his throat, the muscles on his legs are starting to cramp and they begin to weigh like lead. He curses this body, its limitations, and its fragility.

He doesn’t know how it happened or why but he suddenly wakes up as a human. His claws shrunken into dull fingers. His coat of fur gone, exposing smooth furless skin that makes his stomach roil in disgust. His abilities stripped from him, no longer able to sense things around him through keen hearing and sensitive sense of smell. Every sense is duller than before and his speed and strength also decreased to a low point.

He has lived his whole life as a werewolf only to be transformed into a human, the very thing his kind eat.

Loud howls echo, they sound close, closer than before. He knows they can smell him, they can hear him. He knows what it’s like to hunt, now he’s the hunted. The brush beside him rustle.

**RUN.**

But it was too late. Something bigger and heavier tackles him, bare back hits cold ground, the force knocking the air right out of him. Sharp claws quickly dig into his sides, pain flaring up from the wounds as blood leaks out.

Screams of terror escape him as he struggles against his captor. But their strength compared to his is overwhelming, he can’t escape. He can feel his ribs crack under the crushing grip, he screams in pain but his head is pushed to the ground.

The last thing he sees is a streak of white fur along the werewolf’s jaw and feral blue eyes, his eyes widen in recognition.

_Mom._

A snap and a crack. His limp body lies perfectly still, his neck easily snapped to the side and wide open eyes now lifeless. The creature start to tear his body into pieces and three more werewolves emerge from the shrubbery.

Howls echo through the forest.

-=-=-=-=-=-

_The moon calls and beckons_

_For you,_

_The chosen one among the wolves,_

_The moon full and bright_

_Decides your future plight,_

_What has been will no longer be,_

_Clothe yourself in human skin_

-=-=-=-=-=-

_Deep inside the forest is a settlement of werewolves, but take heed these are not the usual werewolves you’ve heard in tales and bedtime stories. They are not transformed from humans, these werewolves are born as they are, they cannot transform into humans either. You could say they are the **true **werewolves. They live deep in the forest, travelling and living in packs. Occasionally raiding human villages for food._

_ But there is a curse put upon their kind. Once every thousand years one from their own will be transformed into a human by the light of the full moon on the third week of the tenth month. There is no sign for who the chosen one is, they only get to find out at the very moment they transform._

_ The werewolf turn human will now be seen as not one of them but as prey. They will be chased away from the pack and captured only to be fed upon by their own family members. _

_ Once the body is consumed and the ground drinks their spilled blood the curse is complete and the cycle restarts._

_ Another thousand years and the same thing will happen just like it did a thousand years ago._


	2. Day 2: Pumpkin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pumpkin
> 
> BBS Characters: Ryan [Ohmwrecker], Jonathan [H2ODelirious]
> 
> Here’s a softer one for now, it’s still a bit spooky but not that much.
> 
> ** Warning: mentions of death **

­-=-=-=-=-=-

[Ryan’s POV]

I woke up from my nap, neck aching from the sleeping position I’ve had, leaning over my desk for the past three hours or so. I sighed, none too happy that I’ve fallen asleep while working again. I tried to carefully sit up, not wanting to disturb whatever papers, pens, and ink I’ve left on the table lest I accidentally topple something over and create a mess. My spell books are far too precious.

Successfully not messing anything up, I stand up and stretch my strained muscles, looking out the window to check what time it was. Unsurprisingly it was already dark out, just after dusk I guess. I whisper a spell and the lanterns and the fireplace light up with fire. I go over to the hearth and put two logs into the fire, just enough to last a couple more hours. My stomach suddenly lets out a gurgle, audibly reminding me that I’ve slept past lunch and dinner.

Taking the short walk to the pantry I realized that I haven’t got much food left, the empty shelves now gathering dust save for the measly pile of potatoes, some onions, and a bulb of garlic.

_I’m surely going to have to go to the village market tomorrow._

Gathering the ingredients out of the pantry and putting them on the kitchen table a thought pops up. There’s a pumpkin patch near me, maybe I can get a small one to add to the stew. I’m sure they won’t notice one small pumpkin right?

Deciding to follow through with that plan, I grab my worn out coat and head on out. A breeze greats me as soon as I close the door behind me, it’s gotten colder for the past few nights as I have noticed. Might want to buy a thicker coat for winter time, I hope I have enough money left for that. I haven’t sold much of my woodcarvings this year after all. I grab a lantern before I leave.

As my mind drifted to other possible _normal _ways to earn an income I continue to walk down the dirt road, just wide enough for one carriage to pass through. Well, not many carriages or carts pass through here anyway, it’s far from the village and main pathways but I won’t have it any other way. The less people I encounter, the better because I won’t have to keep up a front. People don’t take kindly to us witches.

_I wonder if there are other witches around though. _

It gets lonesome sometimes and a bit boring.

The sight of the pumpkin patch pulls me out of my silent mulling. I jog closer, excitedly to quickly get things over and head home for the night. It’s getting colder by the hour and my coat barely keeps me warm. I jump the wooden fence and lean down to check which pumpkin would be best to take with me.

At the corner of my eye I see something move and I’m immediately put on guard. _Oh shit, was someone out here with me? Is it the farmer?_

I slowly turn to check what it was and the sight startles me enough to send me falling on my ass.

“Holy shit!”

Six feet away from me is a headless body of a child and it’s **_moving_**! Crap, I think I’m going to pass out!

I hold my breath, staying as silent as I can, watching intently. The body is crawling on its hands and knees, hands patting the ground. It appears to be looking for something?

Slowly getting over the shock I reign myself in, waiting until I’m calm enough to assess the situation. I continue to observe silently for a few minutes. It looks harmless, doing nothing else than crawl and search the ground for something. Now that I think about it, can it even hear me at all? It has no head so it would hear nor see me right?

Taking a gander on that assumption I stand up and stalk towards whatever _it _is. I’m a few steps away from it before it suddenly jerks in surprise and rapidly tries to get away from me but it trips and falls on its side, instantly curling into a fetal position. It must’ve sensed the vibrations of my footsteps through the ground and that sent it into a state of panic. I look at them with pity, I can sense utter fear coming from them.

I stop close to them and kneel down, talking softly, “It’s ok. I won’t hurt you.” Briefly forgetting that they can’t hear me. I only notice my mistake when the child didn’t respond.

Shaking my head at my silly mistake I reach out and take their small hand into mine, being as gentle as I can. There was no other way I could show my good intentions other than through a tangible way. I wait a moment, simply sitting there waiting, allowing them to make the first move.

After what seemed like hours the tiny hand holds mine in a tighter grip. They slowly uncurl from their position and sit up, not letting go of my hand. But now that I’ve reached this point I didn’t know what to do.

What exactly was I planning to do when I approached them?

The headless child continues to sit there holding my hand, not moving, just waiting. Maybe it trusts me now? Although trust wouldn’t be the exact word I’d use.

Anyway, I snap my wandering thoughts back on track and wrack my brain for what I should do next. Surely communication with them would be a tough job since they can’t talk nor see anything. My eyes flit through the surrounding area, hoping that an idea will strike me sooner or later or else things will go nowhere.

But alas, I see nothing but pumpkins all around me…unless? I look at the child and then turn to the pumpkins.

_It might work?_

I’ve heard stories from my elders during witch training about giving sentience to lifeless things: books, brooms, rocks, practically anything. Now, if I apply that spell…maybe, just _maybe _it’ll work somehow.

I take a deep breath and start chanting, squeezing the child’s hand reassuringly when I feel them jump in surprise at the wind slowly building to a twisting tornado around us. I point my free hand to a pumpkin just the right size, a glowing green aura engulfs my hand and stretches towards the pumpkin, grabbing it and lifting it up.

I bring it towards us and place it gently on whatever’s left of the kid’s neck. I continue chanting and the green aura engulfs the pumpkin and the kid. I squeeze the kid’s hand one last time before letting go and declaring the last lines of the spell. The light around them glow brighter from green to white and the tornado speeds up, I close my eyes and crouch low to the ground, not allowing the winds to pick me up.

Suddenly, a zap. And everything stops. The wind dies and I finally open my eyes, no sign of the green aura remaining. Now I’m met face to face with the once headless child, now with the pumpkin as its head. They sit there, silent and unmoving.

_Did it work?_

“Hello?” I ask.

The body twitches and the pumpkin starts to have cuts on its orange skin, two slits on top and one longer on the bottom. The two on top open first and two blue orbs float in the center, one in each orange socket. That’s their eyes then I suppose. Then the one at the bottom starts opening up.

“H-hello?” It was the voice of a very young child. Surprised but thankful that it worked I speak to them, trying not to make sudden movements lest I scare them away.

I speak softly, “Hi there little buddy. Can you see clearly?”

The child looks around them, carefully looking from left to right before answering. “Y-yes…sir.”

“I’m glad. My name’s Ryan. What’s yours?” I introduced with a kind smile.

“Jonathan.” Came the timid answer, eyes not meeting mine.

There were some many things I wanted to ask but the night was getting colder and I don’t know about Jonathan’s tolerance to the cold but I can feel my fingers starting to grow numb from the cold.

“Nice to meet you Jonathan. Do you want to go home with me? It’s awfully cold outside.”

Those blue orbs look at me and then around us, seeing the darkness surrounding us must’ve spooked him. He quickly nodded.

I stand up and hold out my hand, he takes it with no questions asked. We make our way to the lantern I’ve left nearby still shining and we start the trek back home.

I try to start a conversation while we walk. “Do you have any questions you want to ask?”

Jonathan stays silent for a moment before asking seriously. “Why did I live?”

The heaviness of the question startled me, Jonathan looks about 5 or 6 years-old I didn’t think he’d start asking questions like that.

My silence only encouraged him to ask further. “They killed mama and papa. They also killed me. But why did I live?” He turns to me, tears flowing from those pumpkin eyes. His voice shakes as he asks, “Am I a monster?”

I stop and kneel down before him, taking him into my hands and embracing him. “No you’re not. You are Jonathan, still a child, still growing up, and just a little different from other kids but you’re still you.”

I can hear him sniffling and I pat his back comfortingly. “Uncle Ryan is different from other people too. I can cast spells and control magic. I’m very different from others.”

I pull back and ask him, “But does that make me a monster?”

Jonathan looks at me and snivels, shaking his head. “No.”

I smile and use the edge of my coat to wipe away the tears. “Then you aren’t a monster too.”

He starts to cry even more but I don’t mind. I scoop him up into my arms and carry him the rest of the way home, using the magic to keep the lantern afloat in front of us.

I can’t help but smile, looks like my wishes were granted. He’s not a witch, but he is a companion, different but still a friend.

And looks like pumpkin is off the menu from now on.


	3. Day 3: Sweets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sweets
> 
> Characters: Characters: Mark [Gorillaphent], Luke [Cartoonz], Joe [DeadSquirrel]
> 
> In this fic Toonz and Rilla are 13, and Squirrel is 11.

-=-=-=-=-=-

“Looks like we got all the houses on this side of the street.” Mark stated, looking through his bag of goodies. His Halloween costume for the night being a cross between a gorilla and an elephant.

“We missed one house though.” Luke told them. He wore a devil onesie this time around.

“Really? Which one? I’m pretty sure we’ve covered all the houses,” Mark thought out loud.

Luke pointed to a house at the very edge of the street. “That one.”

“Uh, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to that one. None of the other kids went there either.” Mark didn’t have a good feeling about that house but he wouldn’t openly voice that out.

Luke scoffed, “Nah, they’re just a bunch of pus-“

“Language!” Mark scolded Luke, covering his mouth. “There are children present.”

Luke shrugged Mark’s hand off him. “What? Squirrel?” He asked, pointing at the third member of their trio. “He’s heard cusses more than I have, haven’t you Squirrel?”

The eleven year old boy just nodded, too busy eating a lollipop to speak. Joe wore a zombie squirrel costume handmade by his mom.

“See?” Luke smirked.

Mark sighed. “Just ‘cause he did, doesn’t mean he has too.”

“Alright, fine. But we’re still going to that haunted house right?”

“It’s haunted?!” Mark freaked out. “You know it’s haunted and you still want to go there?”

“Aw come on man, we know ghosts and ghouls or whatever things grownups say are monsters are all made up. They just say that so we won’t go to cool places.”

“_Dangerous _places you mean.” Mark emphasized.

Luke scoffed once more, “Psh, what are you scared too Rilla?”

“I’m _not_…well maybe just a little bit, but come on! It looks way too sketchy.”

At these words all three of them turn towards the mentioned house. It had barely any Halloween designs except for a few fake skeletons out on the yard and four jack-o-lanterns following the footpath to the door. The windows didn’t even show any light coming from inside.

“_See! _Sketchy as hell.”

Luke shook his head, “Nah, I’m pretty sure they made it look like that for Halloween. Let’s go.” With no warning at all Luke ran ahead to the edge of the street.

“Toonz! No! Wait!” Mark tried to call back for him but Luke didn’t even look back.

“I swear, if something happens…” The rest of the words unintelligible as Mark mumbled under his breath, starting to jog to catchup to Luke, Joe following close behind.

When they reached the house they found Luke standing at the road just in front of it.

Mark called out, “What’s wrong Luke?”

“On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t go.” Luke said, voice a bit shaky.

“What? Finally had a change of mind?” Mark teased, but he was relieved. He did not want to step any closer to that house.

They all looked at the house, the door painted with a saying “Get one” a painted arrow below it pointing to a bowl of sweets in front of the closed door.

For the first time that night Joe spoke up, “I don’t think those are fake skeletons guys.”

Mark and Luke turn to the decorative skeletons and notice that there were chunks of what looked to be flesh still clinging to the bones, a bit of blood still clinging to certain parts. They felt cold shivers run up their spines at the sight.

“Ready to go home?” Mark asked.

Both Luke and Joe nodded.

Just as they were stepping away to leave, a creak comes from the door and without looking back they all bolted down the street.

After that day the house at the end of the street was demolished. Luke, Mark, and Joe never found out who or what they would’ve seen had they stayed when the door creaked. But sometimes it’s better not knowing.


	4. Day 4: Goo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Goo
> 
> Character: Scotty [Fourzeroseven], Marcel [BasicallyIdowrk], Brock [Moosnuckle], Evan [Vanoss]
> 
> This is written in Scotty’s POV. Scotty is single in this fic but still a YouTuber.  
This contains very heavy topics please read the warnings and proceed at your own discretion.
> 
> **Warning: angst, mental distress, hints of depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, implied suicide**

-=-=-=-=-=-

I don’t know when it started but one day I wake up with some black substance oozing from my chest, right at the area above my heart. No one else can see it apart from me, I ignored it at first.

Maybe I was just seeing things right?

So I left it.

Days pass and then they turn to weeks. It’s still there. And if I take a closer look it’s getting bigger.

I couldn’t remove it no matter how hard I pulled. I tried cutting it off, that didn’t work either. I tried taking a picture of it so I could post it somewhere and ask what it is, that plan failed too. The camera couldn’t capture it as well.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

It was harmless but its presence gave me anxiety. It was a parasite, I just knew it but I didn’t know what it was taking away from me.

I’m scared.

-=-=-=-=-=-

My friends wanted to record today, I made up some bullshit excuses. I really wanted to play with them but…I don’t feel like it.

I’ve been feeling sluggish for the past days. Can’t explain it too well, but it feels like my energy just doesn’t refuel even after a long nap, or exercise, or a full meal.

I don’t know why. I just don’t feel like doing anything anymore.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I haven’t been able to get out of bed for the past few days. My motivation for doing anything is just down the drain. I can’t even record videos anymore, nothing's as fun as it was.

I’d blame that dark goo but when I checked this morning it wasn’t there anymore. At least that’s one less thing to worry about.

Maybe I was just imagining things???

I don’t know…

I’m so tired. I guess I’ll just sleep for today.

_Ring. Ring._

Just when I close my eyes my phone starts to ring. I see the screen light up with the name of the caller.

_Marcel?_

Should I answer it? But I don’t feel like talking to someone today.

I don’t want him to worry though…

_Beep._

“Hello?”

“Yo Scott how’ve you been? Haven’t heard from you this past days, noticed you haven’t been posting vids too. You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just taking a short break. I’ll be back to posting real soon.” I knew that was a lie. I didn’t feel like recording yet but I couldn’t tell him that. He’ll get worried…

We continue the conversation but I’m barely there, I just give straight cut answers and add something here and then. The task of recording and uploading a video still sticks in my mind.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I’ve been feeling ok today so I recorded some videos on Minecraft and I’ve got a fairly decent amount for maybe two or three videos at least.

I’m going to edit one and post it today.

A few hours after posting I checked the comments and most of them were encouraging, some asking where I’ve been. But as always there were haters popping up now and again.

_‘Gosh I hate his laugh it’s obnoxious’_

_ ‘Why don’t you post more often?’_

_ ‘what? Is the vanoss gang starting to become mincraft Youtubrs now??’_

I ignore those comments. I’ve seen thousands of those already.

My chest gives a painful twinge only for a moment. I don’t dwell too much on it

-=-=-=-=-=-

I feel like I’m suffocating, there’s this heavy weight on my chest and I just can’t get it off of me. I take deep breaths but I feel like I’m not breathing enough.

Why can’t I breathe?

I don’t understand why I feel so sad either, frustrated, worried, anxious, all of these emotions are mixing up into something I can barely understand.

I feel something wet slide down my cheek.

I touch it. It’s just water.

Am I crying?

The realization that these are tears make me cry even more. I try to stop but the tears keep coming, breaths turning to heaving pants. My chest aches, it hurts so bad!

I don’t understand. I’m not even physically hurt.

What’s wrong with me?!

-=-=-=-=-=-

I went to a doctor for a checkup and as I expected, nothing’s wrong.

I still feel lethargic and the pressure on my chest won’t leave me. But I push everything away, nothing makes sense, maybe it’ll go away when I ignore it enough

I take a deep breath and try to pep up for the recording session later.

Everything will be fine right?

I get home but the smile on my face easily falls into a frown. I can’t breathe. Calm down. Breathe. Breathe!

_I **can’t**!_

_ What’s wrong with you!_

Frustration builds up and I not knowing what else to do I punch the wall, plaster caving in while my fist dons cuts, blood oozing from the tiny grazes. Seeing the blood made me oddly calm for a moment.

_Ring. Ring._

I use my uninjured hand to get my phone.

“Yo.”

“Fourzero, you ready to record?” It was Evan this time.

“Ah I just got home. I’ll set everything up, give me a few minutes.”

“Sure thing. We’ll be recording Skribblio today by the way.”

“Yeah, Nogla told me last time.”

“Ok dude. Better set up quick. Brian and Nogla had too much coffee and they’re on their Irish shenanigans again. Brock’s trying to calm them down.”

“Haha, alright. I’ll log on in a bit.” I turn the phone off, looking at the injured hand for a moment. A few band aids would suffice right?

-=-=-=-=-=-

After the recording session Brock asks me to enter a private chat with him.

“What’s up man?” I ask nonchalantly, pretending that my throat isn’t tightening up and the weight on my chest isn’t heavy. That annoying feeling is back and my injured hand is throbbing. During the game I couldn’t type fast with the cuts stinging now and again but I tried my best to catch up anyway.

“Are you ok Scotty?”

I chuckled a bit. Seems like everyone’s asking that question nowadays. “Yeah. I’m ok Brock. Why’d you ask?”

“You just sounded a bit…unenergetic a while ago so I wanted to check.”

_Oh shit, was it that obvious. _“Oh sorry about that…I’m just a bit tired.”

“Why’d you apologize?” Brock sounded confused.

“Oh uhh…was I not supposed to?” I fumbled, nervous that I did something wrong.

“No. I just didn’t think that it’s something you’re supposed to apologize for.”

“Oh ok…sorry.”

“…Scotty is everything really ok?”

I sighed and forced a chuckle. “Yeah. I’m fine Brock. Just…need more sleep and I’ll be good to go.”

Brock stayed silent for a bit but then he soon replied, “Alright, if you say so. Just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

I smile, genuine this time. “Yeah. Thanks Brock.”

I leave the Discord and mull over things for a while. The suffocating feeling never leaving me.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I haven’t been able to get up today again. It’s getting worse.

_Tell your friends._

I don’t want to bother them.

_ Tell one of them._

It will just give them something to worry about.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I’ve been crying for the past hour now. Everything is painful. I don’t understand why.

It feels like I’m being buried beneath the ocean, the pressure pushing down on me, crushing me, but I’m still alive somehow.

I just want the pain to stop.

But it doesn’t. I hate it. I hate it so much.

Something pops up in my mind and I see the cutter on the penholder at my desk.

The temptation is great.

I ignore it for an hour. Trying to tell myself it isn’t worth it.

But I’m weak and desperate for relief.

I quickly grab the cutter, press down and slice. The red blood gives a form of comfort, an eerie feeling of relief floods me and I watch the blood trickle down.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I’m not proud to say it but that became a coping mechanism for when the overwhelming pain and suffocation overcame me.

I’ve started posting videos again. But somehow the negative comments strike me harder than they did before. Sometimes I even catch myself checking my friends’ videos and the comments get worse.

_Ugh 407 is in this better not watch._

_ Who the f is this 407 fello? Annoying as hek_

_ No affense our vids are better without Scotty imo_

It hurts sometimes to read that kinda stuff. I know I should be used to it but…sometimes I can’t avoid getting hurt.

Such a fuckin’ pussy bitch I know.

Sometimes I begin to wander…what if I wasn’t here anymore.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Everything hurts.

I want the pain to stop.

Make it **stop**!

_I don’t want to be here anymore..._

-=-=-=-=-=-

“Marcel have you talked with Scotty recently?” Brock asked through the discord, obvious concern in his tone.

“No. I’ve been trying to contact him last week but he wouldn’t pickup… Is something the matter?”

Brock worried his bottom lip. “I…I can’t explain it but I just have this bad feeling. Can you help me contact him, just to check on him?”

“Sure Brock. I would’ve called him anyway even if you didn’t ask me too. Something’s been off with him lately.”

“Yeah. I’m worried.”

They called him more times than they can count but no one picked up.


	5. Day 5 & 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Wolf & Cat
> 
> Decided to put two prompts into one fic, this is a pretty chunky fic so I think that’s fair xD
> 
> Setting: Village, Medieval times  
Main Characters: Cameron [Fitz], Carson [CallMeCarson]
> 
> **Warning: Sacrifice, Blood, Killing, Questionable morals**

-=-=-=-=-=-

_“The beasts with abilities of cats and wolves lurk behind the trees near our village. Our first line of defense was easily overpowered.”_

“I **told **you that physical attacks will not matter. You never listen! Only a sacrifice will curb their hunger! One of our own-“

_ “You speak nonsense! You mean to tell me to offer a human as a sacrifice? How will that even stop the beasts from advancing?”_

_ The air shifts suddenly, out of nowhere, a cold chill surrounds the two men._

“Only one way to find out.”

_A scream and a gurgle echo, immediately followed by a thud of something heavy hitting the ground. _

_ Chanting under his breath, the cloaked figure draws a magic circle around the fresh corpse with the victim’s own blood._

_ **“Beasts of the night, to you I offer this sacrifice. The ground coated red, the soil drinks their blood. I give you this life in exchange for protection, spare the village!”**_

** **

-=-=-=-=-=-

_There will be a day when the wolves and cats come to play,_

_To keep them away,_

_Sacrifices have to be made,_

_Blood will be shed,_

_Connections will be severed,_

_Cries and screams ignored,_

_For without a sacrifice,_

_The village will be swallowed whole_

_-=-=-=-=-=-_

The tavern is as lively as ever, Carson observes silently from a stool at the bar. Others creating as much racket as humanely possible, drinking to their hearts’ content and being merry. Although the pub is filled with laughter and smiles Carson can’t help but frown. There’s this certain thing in the air, a heavy sensation, something he can’t quite pinpoint. He can sense it even if he can’t exactly describe what it is.

_It’s a sign._

He takes his mug of milk and takes a long sip, trying to distract himself from intrusive thoughts paying a visit to his mind.

“Hey, what’s with the long face?” Fitz, the tavern owner, asks as he takes a seat beside Carson. Carson can’t help but give out a little chuckle.

In this little village Carson always felt like an outcast, sticking out like a sore thumb. Always the weird one. With his tall height, clumsy actions and goofy humor amidst the blank and often despondent attitude of the villagers he can see why. Of course, it was not normal for an orphaned child – who never met his father and lost his mother right after being born- to be so cheerful. Villagers can only see his circumstances as something to pity or something to suspect as a curse.

Carson didn’t care much about what they thought though. He managed quite well even if he practically raised himself. Although, there are times he wishes he wasn’t so different, loneliness is a cruel thing for any man.

But ever since he met Fitz that all changed. In this whole village Fitz was the only other person who could match his eccentricities, humor, and weirdness. The only person who saw him as human. His only friend. That’s why even if Carson never drank any alcoholic drinks he always goes to the tavern whenever he’s free. And Fitz will always somehow have a mug of milk available just for Carson.

Sighing, something Carson rarely does in public, he takes a sip of his milk before answering Fitz’s question, “My face isn’t long though, it’s more of a round-ish shape. Now _yours _on the other hand is what I’d call a long face.”

Fitz doesn’t stop the laughter that bubbles from his chest. Typical Carson, always being the one to find humor in any situation. Fitz loves that about him though.

“Very funny Carson. But on a serious note, is everything ok?”

Typical Fitz, always honest about his concern and not afraid to show it. Carson loves that about him though.

“I’m ok. Just…have a lot of things on my mind.”

For the first time Fitz is surprised by Carson’s response. The bespectacled man’s common responses were often never serious, he always managed to add a bit of humor here and there no matter the circumstance. This was the most solemn Fitz had seen Carson to be ever since they’d met.

So following the mood Fitz also offered without jest, “Want to talk about it?”

Carson discretely looked around the tavern, making sure that no one could overhear them. Upon seeing that most of the patrons were either drunk or passed out Carson says in a whisper, “You’re aware about the ceremony right?”

Fitz whispers back, “Are you talking about _that _ceremony?”

Carson nods.

“Holy shit, has it really been twenty years since the last one?!” Fitz is momentarily stunned by the realization. It takes him a while before adding, “Don’t tell me it’s already time for _that_? Oh fuck, how are they going to pick the sacr-“ Carson quickly covers Fitz’s mouth before he could say another word.

“Don’t speak so loud,” Carson warned, letting go once Fitz nodded.

“Sorry. I was surprised. I’ve never seen it practiced before.”

“Of course not. It happens every twenty years, the last one being twenty years ago. That was when I was born.” The mere thought of it gives Carson a nauseating feeling.

A momentary silence befalls them and Fitz asks the question, “How do they pick who the sacrifice will be?”

Carson could only shrug, and for the first time in his life he wishes he could drink some alcohol but of course he doesn’t.

The old cuckoo clock that Fitz’ parents installed a long time ago alerted every one of the time. It was time to close up shop.

Fitz glances at Carson, knowing that the other had more things he seemed to be keeping to himself. “You can stay the night if you want,” he offers, hoping Carson would agree.

But one glance around the pub and Carson declines. “Looks like you have your hands full tonight man. I’ll go home for tonight, thanks for the drink.”

Carson stands to go but Fitz stops him with a gentle grasp on his wrist, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Carson looks unsure and that only makes Fitz worry. But Carson answers in the end. “Maybe. Goodnight Fitz.”

Without any other words Carson takes his leave. Fitz is tempted to follow after him but what’ll he do if he does so? Not knowing the answer Fitz lets him go.

“Goodnight Carson.”

-=-=-=-=-=-

The very next day the village elders, the chosen leaders, informed every one about the upcoming ceremony that will be performed tomorrow night. All women and children will stay at home while all the men of age, about sixteen years old and above that, will be required to join the ceremony at the west end of the village.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The lively tavern is no longer as energetic as it was before, no drunken singing or random shenanigans unfolding, eerily quiet. But with the current circumstances it really isn’t a big surprise. It’s still weird to see though, he just can’t get used to it.

Carson gets off his horse and secures the reins to a designated spot near the porch. He gives his horse a pat on the neck, feeding him some wheat they usually place nearby just for the horses. He’s just stalling time. He knows this but he wants to enjoy the little things while he can, a reprieve amongst the turmoil and the stress from their circumstances.

When his horse is fed and watered, Carson finally forces himself to enter the door to deliver the news. One person seated by the bar is the only person there aside from him. The once homely pub looks so bleak without everyone around but Carson chooses not to dwell on things that can disrupt his resolve. He speaks up.

“It’s tonight.” Calm but unnerved.

“Of course I know it’s tonight! Do you think the pub would be this lifeless if I wasn’t aware of _that?” _Shaking hands grip a glass of something, maybe ale or mead, well any type of alcohol would be fitting for this situation either way. Fitz takes a swig before continuing, “But we haven’t even prepared, we aren’t ready! They barely even told us anything, they just told us to show up!”

“Calm down Fitz. I’m scared too. Upset. Angry. But it has to be done.” Carson stated, maybe a bit too blankly but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want to get emotional because once his emotions start to overwhelm him, he knows he’d rather just run away from it all. But he won’t. He _can’t_.

When Fitz doesn’t respond Carson takes the liberty to proceed and turns to walk outside.

“Come on, let’s go. The others are already on sight. We’re the only ones they’re waiting for.” Carson doesn’t wait for Fitz, he simply walks out to prepare the horse for both of them. It’s going to be a short journey to the other side of town but he knows it’ll be the last one he’ll take. He wants to make the most of it.

While he’s checking the straps on the saddle and all that Fitz finally walks out of the tavern, lights inside the building were off and the only light source apart from the moonlight was the lantern in Fitz’s hand. He hangs the lantern on a hook at the doorjamb, a visual sign that he’s out for the night, not that it’s necessary. It’s mostly out of habit and he’d be damned if he doesn’t do it, at least that’ll be one thing that feels normal. There’s a lot of emotions flowing through him and he doesn’t know which to focus on, so a bit of normalcy helps even a tiny bit.

He tinkers with the lantern a bit before he deems it perfect. Then Fitz fixes his hooded cape over his work clothes, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

Finally ready, Fitz turns to Carson and he realizes that his friend has this faraway look in his eyes, hazy gaze behind those glasses. He can’t help but sober up with the realization that it isn’t just him that’s stuck in this stupid situation, Carson is too.

Fitz pauses and collects himself before asking. “Is everything alright?”

Carson smiles a small smile, controlled, almost forced, so different from the wide and bright smile Fitz is used to seeing. Carson says in a soft voice, “Just taking a moment to take in the view and ingrain it into memory.”

The statement baffles Fitz but he decides not to ask more questions, afraid of what the answers would be. The situation their suddenly dumped into were affecting them in various ways and it wasn’t a good feeling.

After a few more moments of silence Carson pulls the hood over his head. “Let’s go.”

“Can I lead this time?” It’s the first time Fitz offered to take the lead on a horse ever since his horse died. Maple was his best friend after all, he wouldn’t take the lead of any other horse after that. So that fact that he’s offering to lead now is a huge deal, Carson knows that.

He agrees, a wordless nod sufficed.

Fitz hops on the brown stallion, taking the reins in one hand, the sensation brings back old memories, fond and happy. He still misses Maple, dearly but remembering her doesn’t bring sadness anymore, only happy memories their moments together were appearing. He’s thankful for that.

It seems that Fitz finally calmed down and Carson is glad, his smile more natural than the earlier one.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The ride through their usual route was taken a bit more slowly than what Carson was used to but he wasn’t opposed to it. They had more than enough time to reach the ceremony with this pace. But sometimes he wishes they don’t have to go through with it. More than once this past month he wishes that this was all a bad dream and that they didn’t have to deal with all this pressure weighed upon them due to a tradition that old goonies have created hundreds of years ago. But he knows it’s more than just a tradition, there’s something more behind it, he can feel it in his veins. The eerie whispers of the wind, the negative energy surrounding the area, he can’t explain what it is but something is there, something evil.

His grip around Fitz’s waist unconsciously grows tighter and he buries his face into the taller man’s back, just wishing time would stop. Cameron slows the horse down to a walk from its previous trot.

“Is everything ok back there Carson?”

Carson draws back a bit to talk. “No. Nothing’s ok. I hate it. I don’t want to go through with this.” This is the first time he’d admitted it out loud. But it’s nothing but the truth.

Fitz pauses for a moment, stopping the house completely. “Then why don’t we just _not _go. You don’t want to do this as much as I do so why don’t we just not go.”

“Are you saying we should run away?”

“Basically yeah, you’ve never liked living in this village anyway. Why don’t we just go while we have the chance?”

“B-but your tavern, your house!”

Fitz turns around enough to meet Carson’s eyes. “The only reason I’ve been staying in this dump is because of you Carson.”

The admission brings tears to Carson’s eyes, for the first time in his life he hears that he’s wanted. But it’s at the most unfortunate time too.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” Fitz doesn’t understand.

“I _can’t _go with you…I’m the sacrifice.”

Something flashes behind Fitz’s eyes and he quickly turns the horse around back to the tavern, the horse on a full run. Carson holds on for dear life.

“Fitz! Stop! You’re going the wrong way!”

Fitz didn’t respond.

“Fitz!”

Still no response.

The horse slows down to a stop, they’re back at the tavern and Fitz immediately gets down. Carson follows quickly and grabs Fitz’s hand.

“_Cameron!_” This is the first time that Carson calls him by his real name and Cameron doesn’t stop himself from pulling Carson into a tight hug.

His voice is shaking. “Stay with me _please_.” The desperation is raw, pure emotion expressed through that simple sentence.

Carson doesn’t hold himself back from returning the hug. He’s always felt the weight of the world on his shoulders ever since he was a kid. Ever since the elders told him that he was the one born with the chosen blood, carrying the weight of a village’s salvation by himself. He was the sacrifice. He was their salvation.

His was basically born just to be killed.

The only one who made living bearable was Cameron.

But was his own life worth more than a whole village?

No, he didn’t think so.

But if he leaves then Cameron will be left all alone, just like how he was left alone.

“Carson. I can’t lose you.”

Carson takes a deep breath and hugs Cameron back, and gives his answer, “I won’t leave. I’m with you.”

-=-=-=-=-=-

After taking the necessary supplies they could from the tavern they both set off into the woods, following a map Fitz made from a journey before. With only the moonlight to light their way and the stars to guide them, the two outcasts make their way to carve their own destiny.


	6. Day 7: Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ghost
> 
> Continued from Day 5 & 6
> 
> Characters: Carson [CallMeCarson], Cameron [ Fitz], Toby [Toby on the Tele], Matt [iNoToRiOuS]
> 
> <**Warning: Gore and Blood **

-=-=-=-=-=-

‘_You betrayed us.’_

_ Carson startles at the voice, he’d just awoken to find himself surrounded by nothing but darkness. “Who are you?” Carson asks uncertain, nervously standing on his feet, he can’t even see two feet in front of him._

_ ‘You let us down Carson.’ The voice speaks once more, it’s mainly the voice of a man but it’s distorted with many other voices._

_ “Who are you and why do you know my name?” Carson shouts, looking all around him in search for the source of the voice. But the voice reverberates everywhere._

_ ‘You are the chosen one. The last of our blood. The last sacrifice needed in order for the cycle to end.’ It became increasingly loud with each sentence._

_ ‘But you ran away like a **coward**. **Everyone in the village is dead Carson!**’ The voice is booming with anger._

_ “SHUT UP!” Carson shouts to combat the loudness, his ears hurt but that’s nothing compared to the knives of guilt currently gutting him. He falls to his knees, covering his ears._

_ The voice starts to manifest into an entity, a blurred silhouette of a human blending into the background appearing like a ghost._

_ Suddenly the world around him shifts and they’re back at the village. Bodies upon bodies littering the ground, blood bathing the streets and splattered everywhere. Carson can’t even identify anyone since their corpses are mutilated beyond recognition, they’re basically a pile of flesh and bones._

_ **‘Everyone is dead because of you!’**_

** ** _The silhouette then splits into thousands and surrounds him. **“You let us down Carson. You’re a DISGRACE!” **They lunge for him._

“NO!” The scream is loud and raw, ripped right out of his throat and he jolts upright, breathing hard, scared out of his mind.

Cameron jolts awake, startled. “Holy shit!” He turns to see Carson awake, near hyperventilation. He quickly calms down in order to assist Carson, carefully scooting closer and wrapping an arm across the panicking man’s shoulders.

Gently taking Carson’s hand into his own Cameron shushes him, speaking with a soft voice. “Carson. It’s ok. I’m here, breathe slowly. Breathe.”

Carson obeys, focusing on his breathing. He heavily leans into Cameron, squeezing the hand offered to him as a tangible reminder that he’s here. He’s safe. He’s with Cameron.

They both sit like that until Carson’s breathing levels. Cameron doesn’t say another word through all of it, content to silently be there and comfort Carson without verbal exchanges. As Cameron holds Carson close he thinks back on everything they’ve gone through so far.

It’s been a year since they left the village behind, it was a long and tiresome journey. They travelled all night until they reached a village, stayed there for one day and one night. They spent whatever money they had to stock on supplies, geared up for the journey ahead and quickly left.

The journey was brutal.

When they reached the village that Cameron had mapped out they were starving, out of water, and exhausted. They collapsed right as they reached the settlement. Cameron had feared that’d be the end for both of them, sad at the fact that they’ve come so far and reached their destination only to succumb to their body’s limits.

Then he woke up in a comfortable bed right next to a sleeping Carson, Cameron can’t help but thank their rescuers and pledge a life of loyalty and servitude. Toby and Matt, the owners of the inn, laughed goodheartedly but declined Cameron’s offer of a lifetime of service. Instead Toby asked Cameron if he would like to work at the inn as a payed job. Cameron thanked the man for his generosity and accepted the offer. Carson woke up and Cameron explained what happened and Carson was also happy and grateful to the men who not only rescued them but were also kind enough to offer them a job and a place to sleep.

Bit by bit as the days go by, Carson and Cameron adjust to their new life in the village and they meet many friends, far more than what Carson had in his past village and he had lived there for 20 years. It was almost like a dream come true for both of them to finally find a place where they could easily fit in and get along with other people.

It’s basically paradise.

But of course, there are nights when the nightmares and bad memories come back to make themselves known and the one who suffers a lot from it is Carson.

Cameron is pulled out from his reminiscence when he feels Carson go slack against him, breathing shallow and even, completely asleep. Slowly laying Carson down on the bed with him, Cameron snuggles close to Carson, wrapping his arms around the sleeping man. He pulls the blanket over them, letting it stop right before Carson’s neck.

Pulling Carson close, Cameron takes a deep breath and sighs. He’s sure this isn’t the last night that this kind of thing will happen but he does plan to stay with Carson through it all. Rain or shine, pain or happiness, smiles or cries, Cameron is willing to stick with Carson through it all. Carson did the same thing after all.

He remembers it so vividly, it’s like it only happened yesterday.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

_Cameron was twelve years old when his mother had fallen gravely ill. His father was working double time just to keep the roof over their heads and food in their stomachs, not to mention the medicine that his mother needed. With everything going on Cameron could no longer go to school, he couldn’t even go out and play. He had to stay indoors all day taking care of his mom and tending to the chores. He didn’t hate that he had to do it, all he wished for was for his mom to get better._

_ One day while Cameron was out of the house picking weeds from their meager garden a boy with glasses approaches him. Cameron was weary, he thought the boy was there to point and laugh at him. _

_ But he didn’t._

_ Instead the boy gingerly told him that he had a bug in his hair and carefully shooed away a moth of some kind. Cameron gawked at the weirdness of it all and then the boy introduced himself with big toothy grin._

_ “My name’s Carson. What’s yours?”_

_ “Cameron.”_

_ Since that day Carson would come to visit, sometimes he even helped Cameron with outdoor chores. They quickly became friends and Cameron introduced Carson to his mother, she immediately took a liking to the cheerful boy, often requesting him to visit when he could. _

_ Pretty soon though tragedy strikes. Cameron’s mom passes away._

_ But Carson was there, even if he didn’t need to be there he **was** and Cameron will never forget that. And they’ve continued to be friends ever since._

_ Carson was there to help when Cameron and his dad built the tavern._

_ He was there when they needed help with the workload._

_ He was there as a shoulder to cry on and a pillar of comfort when Cameron’s father passed._

Carson was always there for him, of course he’d do the same for Carson.


	7. Day 8: Rats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Rats
> 
> Character: Anthony [ChilledChaos]
> 
> **Warning: Gore (just a bit)**

-=-=-=-=-=-

A man is thrown into the damp and barely lit dungeon. He hits the grimy floor, forcefully landing on his side and the air is knocked out of his lungs. The heavy door closes, leaving the man in the room with only a measly torch on the wall to light the gloomy place. Being an underground dungeon there were no windows anywhere, not even one on the door.

Groaning in pain but filled with panic and anger he scrambles to his feet, dashing to the door.

“You can’t do this! I’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t keep me here!” Anthony shouts at the top of his lungs, banging his fists on the door.

“I’m a reputable businessman. I have places to be, items to sell. You can’t lock me in here,” he babbles but the door remains closed.

Desperation begins to consume him and he screams louder, “I have a family! My wife and kids are waiting for me! Please, please, please, let me go!”

Silence greats him but quitting isn’t a quality that Anthony carried.

“I’ll give you anything you want out of my shop. _Anything. _Or- or I can pay you! Yeah! I’ll pay you twice- no, three times more than what they’re paying you!” Bargaining was always something he was good at, he tries to apply it in any situation that can gain him something he wants. A fox’s silver tongue was truly a fearsome gift.

“Trust me, let me out and I’ll make it worth your while. I swear it on my life.”

“Swearing won’t get you anywhere.” A voice speaks from the darkness and Anthony is caught by extreme surprise that he falls flat on his bum.

Half-crawling, half-scrambling to the door as an instinct of escape, his eyes dart left and right but the torch by the door doesn’t even reach the end of the room.

Anthony demands with his back leaning on the door, “Who’s there?!”

When no one answers Anthony yells, “Show yourself coward!”

“I would if I could.”

Now that Anthony was focused on the voice he was able to pinpoint the source. It was coming from the part of the room that the light can’t reach. Shaking with fear but wanting to see the face of the person in the dungeon with him Anthony takes the torch off its holder.

Holding the torch, Anthony carefully walks to the other end of the room, minding the holes and uneven spaces on the floor. The last thing he would want is to trip and fall, and seeing the various debris on the ground Anthony definitely doesn’t want that to happen.

Walking a few more steps forward he finally spots a pair of eyes, the light from the torch being reflected off of them. Against better judgement Anthony approaches, cautiously drawing closer with the torch.

“Holy shit!” The smell is what hits him first and he quickly covers his nose and mouth with the edge of his sleeve. It smelled like rotting flesh and shit. What he sees has him rearing back in shock and disgust. Well, it _is _rotting flesh and that makes this even more nauseating.

_I’m going to puke._

“It’s that bad huh?” The man speaks, voice hoarse, probably hadn’t had water in days. He’s an old man, white hair being a telltale sign. He’s sitting on the floor, most likely in a puddle of his own bodily fluids. But the most disturbing part is that his feet were gone, the flesh of his feet anyway, the bone was still intact. The wound didn’t have clean edges so they weren’t cut off…it appeared more like something ate away his flesh, leaving just the bone.

Seeing Anthony’s horrified look the old man just shrugs, staring at the ceiling. “It’s going to end soon anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

The old man doesn’t answer, only closes his eyes.

Suddenly the ground shakes, it starts small then grows stronger and stronger. Anthony stands still in shock.

_What is this?!_

Soon a tsunami of rats flood into the small room, squeezing through the holes in the floor and the walls. Thousands upon thousands continue to crawl in. Their tiny squeaks only adding up to make a thunderous cacophony.

Anthony shouts in fear and runs for the door.

But it’s too late

The rats swarm the two men within seconds. Bloodcurdling screams ring through the entire floor.


	8. Day 9: Crumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Crumble
> 
> Characters: John [Kryozgaming], Smitty[Smii7y], Craig [Mini Ladd]
> 
> -=-=-=-=-=- 

“Why don’t we go to that one John?” Smitty stated, lounging at the couch while watching the commercial play. Seated beside him, John looks up from his phone to see what Smitty was going on about.

_Welcome to Crumbles! _

_Home of the beloved Crumble Pie!_

_Bread and crust that will practically crumble and melt in your mouth, along with the scrumptious filling of meat and their secret sauce._

_With this home cooked meal you’ll never taste a better pie in your life._

_Sweet yet savory, this pie will satisfy your taste buds, fill your stomach, and will definitely make you want to eat more than one slice._

_Sound good?_

_Then what are you waiting for?_

_Come on to Crumbles!_

_Open every day from 8 am to 9pm_

The commercial ends with the baker posing with the pie right outside the entrance. Then the camera zooms out and it fades, now showing the next commercial.

“Eh, I don’t know man,” John comments, bringing his focus back to his phone.

“C’mon man. We’re just staying here for three days and today’s the last day, won’t it make sense to at least try one of the town’s specialties?” Smitty states, turning the television off.

John simply shrugged,” I mean, we can go but I ain’t eating any pie.”

Smitty smiled, satisfied with John’s answer. “Whatever suits you man.”

-=-=-=-=-=-

Smitty and John stood at the entrance gawking at the massive amount of people in the pie shop. Most of the tables were occupied with people eating and chattering, it almost seemed like the place was a cafe rather than a pie shop.

“Wow, I didn’t think it’d be _this _famous,” said John, eyes wide and then his gaze lands on the queue. “The line’s so long though.”

“Let’s just fall in line John. We’ve gone all the way here. Besides, the pie must be extremely good for this huge amount of people to be coming here.”

“Or they’re just curious tourists just like us and this is the only passable place to eat in the whole town,” supplied John.

Smitty just shook at his friend’s words and fell in line.

Seeing that Smitty was determined John accepted his fate. “Fine. You order and I’ll go find us a seat.”

“Anything you want?”

“Just something to drink, if they sell any, either coffee or an energy drink would be fine.”

“You sure you don’t want a pie?”

“Yeah.”

John then left Smitty to go look for a free table for them, luckily the shop had a second floor with lots of tables…that were also full. But fortunately, a couple just stood up and were leaving so John managed to grab the table and seats after they left.

John sends a quick message to inform Smitty that he was at the second floor. The he plugs his earphones in, and he jams to his favorite music while waiting for Smitty.

It takes around 30 minutes before Smitty comes up with their orders, placing it on their table and taking a seat. John removes his earphones and frowns when he notices the two plates of pie. Well, at least Smitty got him his coffee.

“I said I didn’t want pie.”

“Who said it’s for you dumbass?”

“Ah, so it’s for the fatass.”

“Fuck off,” Smitty curses as he laughs, grabbing the first slice of pie.

As John sips his coffee he silently watches Smitty take a bite of the pie and he just freezes in place. For a moment John thinks there’s something wrong but Smitty’s eyes widen and he has a euphoric look on his face as he chews.

“Holy fucking shitty titties.”

John only raises a brow at Smitty’s sentence.

“It’s so fucking delicious! I’ve never tasted anything like it!” The excitement was obvious on Smitty’s face and his voice. But John still didn’t budge.

“You’re just saying that so I’ll eat some pie.”

“Not really, I’m just saying it ‘cause it’s the TRUTH. Seriously though, you’re missing out on something incredible John.” Smitty says all this while talking with a mouth full of pie.

John cringes. “Dude don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Smitty just laughs and pushes the other plate towards John. “C’mon. Just one bite.”

John really didn’t have any interest on the so called _amazing, best ever tasting, and delicious _pie. But one thing’s certain, Smitty won’t stop pestering him until he had at least one bite, he’s just stubborn like that.

So with a sigh and a roll of his eyes John takes the fork and gets a piece of the pie.

And that one bite really blew his socks off. Smitty was right.

Smitty must’ve been watching him closely since the next comment John hears is a smug “Told you so.”

John normally wouldn’t agree to his mistakes, the ones as simple as this anyway, but for now he’ll accept it. The pie _is _delicious and he can’t seem to stop eating. The product was just like what the advertisement said, the crust basically melts in his mouth, swimming in the creamy sweet and savory taste of the filling. It’s an awesome combination.

When John snaps out of this food trance he realizes that he’d eaten the whole pie and Smitty’s smuggest smile.

John huffed, small smile on his face. “Alright, fine. It’s awesome.”

Smitty only laughed then suggested, “Wanna buy one whole pie to bring home?”

John didn’t want to seem too eager so he just casually shrugged, “Sure if that’s what you want.”

The glint in Smitty’s eyes knew it was just a façade and that John wanted it just as much as he did, but he let it slide, John agreeing to it is good enough.

After they finished eating, they ordered none pie but were surprised when they received two.

Smitty was about to return it to the cashier, saying there’s been a mistake but the cook comes out from the kitchen and speaks with them instead.

The man introduces himself as Mini and he explains, “The other one’s on the house. It’s a Crumbles tradition to give one free to tourists.”

John was curious. “How’d you know we were tourists?”

Mini laughs good-naturedly and says, “I’ve lived here all my life. It’s quite a tightknit community we have. Everyone knows everyone around here.”

John just nods, it makes sense. And Smitty thanks Mini for the extra pie.

The two young ones leave that town with full bellies, two mouthwatering pies, and a new favorite place to eat at.


	9. Day 10: Fungus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: Fungus
> 
> Continued from Day 2: Pumpkin
> 
> Prompt: Fungus
> 
> Characters: Ryan [Ohmwrecker], Jonathan [H2ODelirious]
> 
> No horror. Just some wholesome moments xD

-=-=-=-=-=-

It’s been two years since Ryan had adopted Jon and it’s been quite an adventure, but for the most part it was mostly like taking care of a human infant, except said human infant has a pumpkin for a head. Jon quickly got used to his new body and manages to discover something new about his body now and again, like how he can’t see in full colors and the world is instead in grayscale. Each day Ryan takes out a blank book to write on and scribble whatever new discoveries that Jon makes about his body.

Since Ryan didn’t have any books or information on using this particular combination of spells nor does he know why it worked. There’s a lot of uncertainties with Jon’s origin and why the pumpkin had easily melded with his body to create a head. Since this is the first time this happened, well it’s the first that Ryan knows about anyway, he made sure to take notes on Jon’s development. This was mostly to observe Jon and the way he grows and improves, basically anything that’s unique to a being like Jon.

This information would help in the future if something happens to Jon, a sudden complication of some sort, would the pumpkin eventually rot or not, things like that basically. This record of observations would greatly help in the future as a reference for if any emergencies that would occur.

Finishing the written observations for the day Ryan stands up from his chair and grabs his coat. It’s nearing dusk which makes this a great time to go out into the woods and gather some herbs for cooking and potions.

“Grab your coat Jon, we’ll be going out to the woods this evening.”

Jon immediately stopped whatever he was doing and went to grab his own coat. It’s obvious that the young boy was excited to get out of the house. Ryan’s pretty sure staying inside all day bores Jon but the risks of being spotted during daytime is high so he’ll have to bear with it until Ryan’s able to come up with a solution. For now Jon takes the simple pleasure of going outdoors at night as a special treat and Ryan’s just happy the boy is having fun.

They spend two to three hours treading through shrubbery and searching the forest for whatever Ryan needed, using orbs of light to light their way. When he finds it he teaches Jon all about it, the name, the use, and the proper way to harvest it. Being the curious little boy he is Jon has many questions and Ryan is patient enough to answer all of them as best as he could. It was a great feeling to have someone to talk to and discuss about things like these.

“LOOK!” Jon suddenly screams in excitement and this spooks Ryan enough to flinch.

Seeing that there was no immediate danger anywhere Ryan sighs and lightly scolds Jon, “Don’t shout, someone might hear you.”

Jon sheepishly apologizes, “Sorry.” But he quickly gets over it, too riddled with eagerness to dwell on the mistake. “Look it’s a dancing mushroom.”

Lo and behold, it was a dancing mushroom. Ryan carefully stared at it, keeping Jon from touching it first.

With its plain cream colored stalk and brown umbrella shaped head it was a normal mushroom, not poisonous. But it was enchanted for whatever reason and was jumping up and down, bouncing in place, then it starts dancing all around Jon’s feet. Jon is overjoyed but he knows to stay in place lest he accidentally step on the little guy.

“Can I keep it?” Jon looks with wide eyes at Ryan, pleading the older man for an agreement.

Ryan wasn’t sure if he should allow the mushroom as a pet for Jon even if it is nontoxic and weird.

But the expectant look on the child’s face manages to break Ryan’s resolve.

“Fine. But let me check something first.” Ryan chants softly casting a spell to simply check if the mushroom had an evil spell on it.

Glowing yellow lights like fireflies go out from his palm and circle around the mushroom, for some reason the mushroom pauses to look at the lights. Can it even see though? Well it must be able to since it clearly follows the lights rotating with its body.

Anyway, the lights glow blue and Ryan nods. “Okay we can take it home.”

Jon quickly hugs Ryan with a string of ‘thank you’s flowing past his lips.

And the mushroom might be able to understand words as well since it cuddles close to Ryan’s foot like a normal pet would. Ryan doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into but maybe now Jon won’t be so bored while he waits indoors all day.

When Jon lets go of Ryan he gingerly picks up the little mushroom. Ryan takes the lead and guides Jon back to the house.

_I think that’s enough adventure for tonight._

“What do you want to call it?” Ryan asks while they walk home.

“Mush Mush.”

Ryan tries to stop the laughter but he ends up releasing a few chuckles at the cute name. On the other hand, Mush Mush starts dancing in Jon’s palm and the child laughs with joy.


	10. Day 11: Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Glow
> 
> Characters: Anthony [ChilledChaos], Steven [ZeRoyalViking], Anthony [Galm], John [Smarty]

-=-=-=-=-=-

Chilled opened the door to the room they’ll all be staying in tonight. The room had two bunk beds, one bathroom, and a small kitchen.

“We’ll be staying here for now. We can start heading east tomorrow and it’s be at least five more days before we reach our destination,” Chilled informed his friends when they all piled into the room. No one responded vocally but the slight nods were sufficient signs to show that they heard him.

“Man I’m beat,” Smarty whined, easily flopping onto one of the beds.

“Take a shower first before you sleep. You’re starting to reek,” Ze commented, choosing the bunk bed on top of Smarty’s.

“I will, but I want to eat first.”

Galm asked, “Was there any restaurants or fast food chains in the area?”

Chilled, the designated driver, answered, “Haven’t really seen one. Might have to ask the front desk.”

“Are we eating out or will we get takeout?” Ze asked.

“I’d rather have takeout, I’m exhausted,” Chilled stated.

“Smarty and I will ask the front desk if they have any recommendations. You and Galm can stay here and rest,” Ze suggested.

“Oh gladly,” Galm sighed in relief, collapsing on his own bed. “Just send us a text of what’s available. And we’ll pay our share when you get back.”

“Sure. C’mon Smarty, let’s go.”

Smarty groan but stood up anyway.

Ze and Smarty left the room.

“Man, I hope there’s some store selling food nearby. I’m tired.” Smarty commented.

“Same here man.”

They both reached the ground floor and approached the person at the front desk, an elderly old man.

“Good evening gentlemen. How may I help you today?”

“Good evening, we were just wondering if there are places that sell food near here?” Ze asked politely.

The old man glanced at his watch and then answered, “There’s a local restaurant three blocks east of here. That’s the nearest one I can think of.”

Ze nodded and thanked the old man.

Smarty and Ze started to head out but the old man added before they left, “Just please make sure to come back before nightfall. It’s not safe to be outside after sunset.”

“Thanks for telling us,” Smarty answered for both of them and then they left.

They were halfway to the car when Ze realized they had forgotten to get the car keys. “Oh dang it! I forgot the keys. Well looks like we’re walking.”

“Aww come on, can’t we just get the keys real quick?”

“Do you want to go get them? ‘Cause I don’t.”

Smarty groans, turning back to the place they rented having four floors, theirs being on the highest floor. “Ugh, no.”

“Alright then let’s start walking. It’s just three blocks from here after all.”

-=-=-=-=-=-

It took them less than 15 minutes to reach the place and they checked the menu, called Chilled and Galm for their orders and then placed all their orders. Ze paid for the food for now, making a mental note to ask for the split once they go back to the hotel. It would take a while for the food to cook so they had some time to burn. The town was a bit small so the cashier started a conversation with them. It was the normal questions of who, what, when, where, and why’s.

“So you’re visiting just for today?” The guy about the same age as Ze asked.

“Yeah, just resting for a bit before going for another journey to the next stop.” Ze mostly did the talking, Smarty being content to listen in while scrolling through his phone.

“Must be nice to travel around.”

“Yeah, but I only travel once in a while got a lot to do at work y’know.”

“Oh for sure, taking a break once in a while is great.” The bell dings and the cashier gets their take out bags and hands it to Ze and Smarty. “Here you go boys. Hope you enjoy your meals and wish you well on your travels.”

“Thanks man.”

“Oh by the way, I don’t know which hotel you’re staying at but I suggest you guys to go quickly since the sun’s setting.”

The man’s statement piques Ze’s curiosity, there must be something about this since the old man mentioned it. Ze must ask, “What’s with not being outside after sunset?”

“Well, it’s just safer that way.” The cashier looks around him nervously, like he was afraid he’d be overheard. He leans closer and whispers, “Just go back quickly and if you find yourselves outside after sunset don’t look at anything that glows, _anything._”

The man then straightens and speaks louder, “Thank you for ordering, have a great day!”

Ze was still curious but Smarty dragged him outside so they can leave.

“Man that was weird.” Smarty commented.

“You’re telling me. But it doesn’t make sense though. _Don’t look at anything that glows? _Like what? There’s tons of things that can glow, like light from windows and streetlights. How are we supposed to watch where we’re going if we don’t have lights at night?” Ze pondered.

Smarty shrugged, “I don’t know. But let’s just get back before things get weirder.”

“Don’t tell me you actually believe him?” Ze asked, a bit amused.

Smarty scoffed, “Well, not really. I just wanna get back to the hotel, to eat, and then sleep.”

And that’s where the conversation ended, but they both find themselves walking faster than before, neither of them commented on that fact though.

Thankfully they reached the hotel without any incidents and right in time too, the sun had just set when they entered the hotel. The old man wasn’t at the counter, a tiny sign saying “on a toilet break” taking place on the desk.

Smarty climbed the stairs, reached the 4th floor in record time, and quickly knocked on their door. Galm opened the door and he placed the bags on the nearest table, relieved.

But Galm asks, “Where’s Ze?”

Smarty looked confused, “He’s supposed to be right behind me.” When no one entered a cold feeling of dread laced down Smarty’s spine and he rushes to the window that overviews the entrance side of the hotel.

He spots Ze outside.

“What’s he doing?!” Smarty panicked, Galm and Chilled quickly rushing to peak out the window.

“Why?” “What’s wrong?” Both of them asked in unison. But Smarty couldn’t even get a single word out before something glowed on the street where Ze stood and within seconds the light grew so bright, like an explosion.

After it dimmed down, Chilled, Galm , and Smarty could only look in shock as their friend was nowhere to be seen.


	11. Day 12: Hallucinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hallucinations
> 
> Characters: Mason [Zuckles]
> 
> **Warning: Blood, Murder, Death, self-harm **

-=-=-=-=-=-

Mason woke up feeling very refreshed and well rested. He heads out of his room, intending to go to the kitchen but when he gets out into the hall something instantly feels off. Then he spots the blood on the floor, splatters on the walls, and as he starts to go down the hall the amount of blood increases.

“What the fuck? What the fuck?! Guys! Guys do you see this?! Holy shit!” Mason shouts, panic and nervousness starting to take over.

But no one answered.

“Guys?”

Still no response.

Heart pounding, Mason runs into the nearest room which is Swagger’s. The door is open, Mason bursts in, and he screams.

Swagger is laying in his bed covered in blood.

“Swagger! No, no, no, no, no! Stop it! This joke isn’t funny!” Shouted Mason, but Swagger didn’t stir. He didn’t get up and laugh at Mason’s reaction or say it was just a joke. Swagger wasn’t breathing at all.

Mason falls down on the ground in shock. Yet, he quickly scrambles to his feet to check on the other guys, to ask for help.

“Help! Guys! Anyone! Swagger is-“ The rest of the sentence dies in his throat when he enters Matt’s room, he’s laying down on the floor, covered in blood, and stab wounds obvious on his body. Mason starts to hyperventilate. Chanting no over and over again like a mantra. Tears start to sting his eyes but he doesn’t allow himself to cry now. He needs to find the others and contact the police.

“Toby!”

He was dead.

“McCreamy!”

Dead as well.

The tears are now free falling from his eyes. There’s gotta be someone alive. _Anyone._

“Fitz!” Mason shouted entering his friend’s room and Mason collapses on the ground crying.

Fitz is dead. _Everyone is dead! _

This can’t be happening! This has got to be a nightmare! That’s right. It’s just a nightmare. He’ll wake up and have a good laugh about it right? Right?!

Mason starts hitting himself to try to wake himself up, but no matter how hard he punched himself it wasn’t working. He didn’t “wake up” and bruises started to bloom on his skin.

_Call the police._

Finally, a sensible solution.

Mason quickly wipes the tears away and pulls out his phone.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

-=-=-=-=-=-

The police manage to get there in record time to investigate the scene, Mason is set aside for the medics to calm him down as he is in near hysteria. They’ll have to take him in for questioning later.

The sight inside the house is horrendous and makes even the toughest policeman nauseous.

The whole house is taped off as a crime scene and no one else aside from the police and investigators are allowed to go in.

_-=-=-=-=-=-_

_A few days later._

_ The assigned investigator to the case is approached by one of his colleagues._

_ “Sir you have to see this.”_

_ “Is this the files from the CCTV?”_

_ “Yes, I found something extremely disturbing.”_

_ The CCTV doesn’t record sounds so they can’t hear anything and no CCTV’s were placed inside the rooms, only in the hall, the main lobby, and outside the house._

_ The first video is recorded by the camera on the hall. They both watch as Mason goes out of his room in the dead of night. He seems to be half-awake and half-asleep. But he has no trouble walking, he isn’t stumbling or anything like that. He walks to the kitchen grabbing something then he goes into his friends’ rooms one by one. _

_ He comes out of the room covered with blood and goes to the next room. The same thing happens. But all throughout the ordeal Mason doesn’t look completely aware of what he’s doing._

_ After entering all of the rooms he goes into the shared bathroom and comes out completely naked, looks like he just had a bath. Then he enters his own room._

_ Fast forward to when Mason wakes up, fully clothed, and makes the discovery he acts completely different. Running into each friend’s room with a panic after discovering Swagger’s dead body, tears running down his face as he shouts._

_ It seems he doesn’t remember anything he did at all._


	12. Day 13: Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Witch
> 
> Continued from Day 2 and Day 10
> 
> Characters: Ryan [Ohmwrecker], Jonathan [H2ODelirious], Adam [SeaNanners], Max [GassyMexican]

-=-=-=-=-=-

“Wake up Jon,” says Ryan, opening the curtains to let the sunlight filter in.

Jon groans, covering his face with his blanket. “Urgh. Five more minutes.”

“No more extensions. I’ve already given you ten minutes earlier.”

Jon groans again but gets out of bed nonetheless, grumbling lowly while heading to the bathroom, Mush Mush following right at his heals.

Ryan watches with a slight shake of his head. He knows Jon isn’t a morning person but they have a busy day ahead of them. It’s finally time for Jon to start his witch training. Ryan had thought it over ever since Jon reached his tenth birthday. Jon already started with being an apprentice, going with Ryan in searches for ingredients for potions, and generally helping Ryan with the simple stuff. But _now_ Jon can finally start learning basic spells and Ryan is more than ready to start the training.

For a brief moment Ryan pauses in reminiscence of his training days. He remembers holding his first wand. The multiple screws up he’s had. The time his teachers would scold him for practicing without supervision. It was one of the best times in his life.

“Ryan?” Jon called, looking concerned.

Ryan blinks out of his dazed state. “Hmm?” Turning to Jon.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, just remembering some memories of the old days.”

Jon rolled his eyes, “You talk as if you’re an old man.”

Ryan laughs. “Well, maybe I’m not fifty or sixty but sometimes being thirty makes me feel like an old man. Anyway, are you ready for your first day of training?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, let’s go to the potions room and I’ll teach you the basics.”

-=-=-=-=-=-

Two hours had passed. And it was the most eventful two hours that Ryan had experienced.

“_How_ did this happen?” Ryan questioned, now looking _up _at Jon as the teen tried to stifle his laughter.

“Jon this isn’t funny!”

Jon stared at his shrunken teacher and burst out laughing, he just couldn’t hold it in anymore and the more a person is told not to laugh the more that person _will _laugh. And even Ryan’s voice had drastically changed, no longer sounding like an adult but instead like a teenager.

“I’m sorry but- hahaha, wait- I can’t- I can’t stop ahahahahahaha!”

Ryan could only groan as he stops to observe his new state. Jon had accidentally performed a complicated spell, distracted by Mush Mush’s antics while chanting a simple spell. Now Ryan is transformed back into his teen years, he looks to be about fourteen or fifteen and he’s way shorter than Jon. Ryan has to adjust the length of his pants, folding them to an appropriate level.

Ryan quickly tried to think of a solution while Jon starts calming down from his fit of laughter. But he does realize this won’t be an easy spell to break. He walks over to his bookshelf to find a spell book that hopefully contains the instructions would revert the spell that Jon cast. Ryan started from the bottom going upwards but when he reached the top most rows of the bookshelf he could barely reach the second highest row even on tiptoes.

“Here, let me get that for you.” A snickering Jon stated, grabbing the first book on the second row and handing it to Ryan.

Ryan took the book but not after sending Jon a glare, but Jon remained unbothered by it, even slightly thought it cute seeing that expression on a tiny Ryan.

While scanning through the book Ryan tells Jon to help him look for the book. Since Jon already managed to compose himself he obeyed without any questions, searching through the books that Ryan hadn’t yet. It took them a while but they found it in the end.

Ryan read through the instructions, it was far more complicated than the spell Jon cast on him but that’s just how reversion spells work. Ryan was mentally preparing himself to cast the reversion spell but he stopped at a certain part of the book, his lips falling into a frown.

“I won’t be able to cast this spell.” Ryan stated with a sigh.

Now Jon was concerned, quickly leaning over his teacher to read through the instructions. “What do you mean?”

“The spell requires a level of magic that I don’t have.”

“I don’t get it.”

Ryan calmly explains, “The amount of magic can be labelled as second tier. You, being a witch in training, are in tier one. The spell requires tier three magic.”

Jon nods in understanding. “So how can you become a tier three witch?”

“Tier two witches can become tier three witches by training specific sets of magic for three years under the supervision of a master witch.”

Jon continued to nod before pausing in realization and quickly bursting out, “Wait, so how do we turn you back?!”

Ryan instantly covered his ears, Jon has increasingly become louder and more boisterous in terms of his reactions these days. “Lower your voice Jon.”

“Oh sorry.”

“But to answer your question, I’m going to have to contact my former mentors. If they aren’t busy they might be able to arrive within three days or so. But if they’re busy…it might be a month before they make it.” As Ryan explained all this he grabbed a piece of paper, ink, and a quill and was writing a letter.

Hearing the possibility that this spell could last a month Jon is hit with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Ryan.”

Ryan stopped writing for a second to look at Jon, sad blue eyes trained on the ground. The brunet sighs and gets down from the chair, giving Jon a tight embrace, resting his head on the now taller boy’s chest. Ryan knows that Jon is probably beating himself up over this incident more than he should. “It’s ok Jon. Mishaps like these happen all the time, it can still be fixed. Don’t worry about it.”

Jon only nodded.

Ryan let go. “Ok, I’ll finish writing the letter and then I’ll show you how witches send their messages.”

The prospect of learning something new makes Jon instantly perk up and Ryan couldn’t be more relieved to see that smile back on his face.

After Ryan finished writing the letter he folded it into three sections and placed it in an envelope, placing his stamp to seal it. Waving Jon over, Ryan kneels on the wooden floor and Jon follows. Ryan makes a magic circle with the ash he stores in a tiny bag always attached to his belt. He places the letter in the center of it and sprinkles a mixture of herbs he always has stocked.

Ryan then starts to chant the words to cast the spell. The lines of the circle start to glow brightly, the herbs start to rise, carrying the letter with them in a tiny tornado kept inside the barrier of the magic circle. The tornado spins faster and faster and faster. Then the light glows bright, in a flash the letter was gone along with the herbs and the magic circle.

“There, the message is sent. We’ll just have to wait for their reply.”

The room suddenly fills up with smoke and after it fades two new people are introduced.

“You called?” The taller one asked, looking around them, eyes widening when he spots the shrunken Ryan.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Max! Adam! You’re here!” Ryan hugged both of his mentors, this being the first time he’s seen then after years. “I didn’t think you’d get here that fast.”

“Well, you stated that it was an urgent matter and we weren’t doing anything so we came here as fast as we could,” explained Max.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help,” commented Adam, slightly amused by Ryan’s current state. “Aww, it’s like when we first met. How’d you fuck up this time Ryan?” Max lightly elbowing him after that question.

Ryan rolled his eyes. He can see that they haven’t changed one bit and that made things even more nostalgic.

He steps back, explaining, “It wasn’t me this time. I was just teaching my first student, Jon,” Jon waves at them. “-when a simple spell accidentally turned into a complex one.”

“Oh! So this is your student! Nice to meet you Jon!” Adam, always the eccentric one, immediately takes Jon’s hand into a very enthusiastic handshake.

Even if he was slightly taken aback Jon still returned the greeting with the same vigor.

Max observed Ryan closer and remarked, “You’re lucky it wasn’t a destructive spell.”

Adam added, “You’ll be fixed in no time but we need to find the needed herbs for the potion.”

Ryan and Adam entered another room, searching through his inventory, taking the stuff they need and placing them into the cauldron. Meanwhile Max takes this opportunity to speak with Jon.

“So how did you and Ryan meet?”

“I was- uh I mean- Ryan helped me and took me in when I had nowhere to go,” Jon stuttered a bit nervous to speak with Max.

“Oh, I see. I hope you this doesn’t offend you, but may I ask, what are you?”

Jon pauses but answers the question, “I’m not so sure myself. I only remember my mom and dad being killed and wondering in darkness for days on end. Then one night Ryan just comes and gives me a head, a face, a home, and a family.

Max nodded, “Ryan’s always had a heart of gold, so that’s no surprise…do you_ want_ to know what you are?”

Jon paused, twiddling with his thumbs he answers, “I’m not sure. I don’t have to know what I am …but I would at least like to know how long I’ll be able to stay on earth.”

“Don’t worry, your kind will be able to last hundreds of years.”

The information shocks Jon for a bit but he ends up smiling. “That’s a relief. Because I’m sure as hell going to stay with Ryan for the rest of my life. I also want to be a witch so I can help him with spells and stuff. I want to be his partner for as long as he’ll have me.”

Max couldn’t stop the smile on his face. “Glad to hear that. Ryan has often been somewhat of a loner, so having you with him is certainly a positive addition to Ryan’s life. I’m sure you’ll make a great partner as he will be to you.”

Jon couldn’t help the grin. “Thanks. I really needed that boost.”

“No problem. Now how about we help those two before something else happens. Adam’s known to be a bit spontaneous with potion making even if he already knows a lot of the potions by heart. He tends to fuck up just so he can discover new ones.” Max explained with a fondness in his tone.


	13. Day 14: Skeletons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character: Jonathan [H2ODelirious]

-=-=-=-=-=-

Cold to the touch much like the temperature of snow that falls from the sky, frozen tears from the clouds. Pristine white akin to the snowflakes that coat the landscape, and firm structure like the ground it covers, permafrost creeping just below.

It’s simply beautiful. Breathtaking.

But fools will call it a delusion, overlooking the beauty of it all, spouting nonsense and label me as an idiot.

They just don’t understand. No one understands.

They don’t know the feeling of the thrill and anticipation that consumes you while you remove the covering, unwrapping it like present, the content a surprise. You’re never going to know what you’re exactly going to get. Every one is different compared to the other, not a single one is the same as another.

And every time I do an unwrapping it’s always such an adrenaline rush, the experience individually unique, I’ll never get bored or tired of it. The longer the process, the better. And that makes it all the more sweeter when I get to reveal the prize.

Sure I’d rather go without the screams and struggling while I remove the meat, but that’s what adds to the unique experience. And there’s nothing better than seeing a skeleton fresh out of the flesh.


	14. Day 15: Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Brock [MooSnuckle], Marcel [BasicallyIdoWrk], Brian [Terroriser], Evan [Vanoss], Ryan [Ohmwrecker]

All the curtains of the room were drawn tight, not letting any sunlight in, fabric too thick for light to penetrate. With the room shrouded in darkness Brian turns the lightbulb on, shedding some light on the surrounding area.

“Ye know ye can’t keep on like this Brock,” commented Brian, closing the door behind him.

An impudent grunt was the only reply. Brock buried under the covers of the king sized bed, hidden from view.

Brian rolled his eyes at the childish display, leaning against the wall beside the door. “Stop moping and go eat.”

“No.”

“No to what? ‘_No, I won’t stop moping.’ _or _‘No, I won’t eat.’ _?”

Brock briefly peeks from under the covers to send a glare at Brian. “No to both!” He says, diving back under the blankets.

Brian sighs loudly, exasperated by his friend’s unwillingness. Brock hadn’t eaten for a whole week and he still refuses to eat. Brian had tried to get him to eat even just a small amount but Brock always declines. The man’s stubbornness will be the death of him if this keeps up. Resorting to their last option, Brian shouts towards the door, “Marcel! Your boyfriend refuses to cooperate!”

The mention of his beloved’s name catches Brock’s attention and he bursts out of his fabric fortress. “You brought him here?! I told you to keep him away from here as far as possible!”

Brian just scoffed, rolling his eyes at the same time. “Stop being such a fuckin’ drama queen. And for yer information, Marcel _wanted _to stay.”

Speak of the devil, Marcel then makes his entrance, sending an angry look towards Brock. “Why the fuck would you want me miles away from you? And why won’t you let me in your room to talk to you?”

Brock instantly deflated, clamping his mouth shut, shooting accusing glances at Brian. The Irishman, on the other hand, does not look remorseful in any manner as he takes his leave.

“I’ll leave you two to sort things out. I’ll be right outside, shout if you need any help.”

With Brian gone the tension in the room is palpable, Marcel never once looking away from Brock.

When Brock doesn’t answer Marcel takes a seat at the side of the bed and Brock instantly inches away. The way Brock hastily backed away from him as if he was burned with fire made Marcel frown and his eyes started to get teary.

“Do you hate me?” He’s hurt, that much is clear.

Brock blanches. “Of course not! I’d never hate you Marcel.”

It seems like Brock wants to take Marcel into his arms, embrace him tightly, but he’s holding himself back.

Marcel quickly wipes away the tears, but the frown is still there. “Then why do you want me to get away from you so badly? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

Brock doesn’t meet Marcel’s questioning gaze, fidgeting with the blanket instead. But he does respond.

“It’s not like I _want _you to go. I…I just don’t want to hurt you.” Brock finally confesses. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”’

“Ever since I’ve been turned into _this_ I can’t stop thinking about blood; the need for it; the thirst. It’s overwhelming. I crave for it. And every time I look at you the feeling gets twice as strong.” Brock covers his face in shame, expressing his woes. “I’m disgusted with myself. I’m a doctor for Pete’s sake! I’m supposed to help people not hurt them!”

Marcel’s expression now melts into one of understanding. However, it still pains him to see Brock like this, hiding away, starving himself. This isn’t what Marcel wanted for Brock. Slowly, Marcel inches nearer towards Brock until he’s able to hold the now pale hand. Brock flinches but doesn’t pull his hand away.

“Brock look at me,” coaxed Marcel, voice soft enough to get Brock to look his way.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the first thought that leaves his lips, hand slightly tightening around Brock’s.

“It was the only way to save you…you had lost so much blood, you were practically lying in a pool of your own blood. I-I didn’t want to lose you so I let Evan turn you into a vampire. I thought…_’at least I won’t lose you’ _but-“ Marcel stutters, tears freefalling from his eyes, “I was wrong. I should’ve asked for your permission. I didn’t know it would cause you this much pain; this much turmoil… But if I lose you like this I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

Brock instantly pulls Marcel into an embrace, no longer holding himself back from touching the other. Marcel reciprocates and hugs Brock tightly, slightly shuddering at the cold feeling of Brock’s body.

“I’m sorry for being selfish Brock.”

Brock cradles him close, gently shushing him, “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I didn’t know you’ve been forced to go through such a hard decision. It must’ve been hard on you.”

“I’m sorry. _I’ve _been the one who’s selfish. Pushing you away. Not talking to you about _everything _that’s happened. I didn’t even consider your feelings. I’m so sorry.”

Brock hugs Marcel closer while Marcel buries his head into Brock’s chest. They hold each other for a long time, not wanting to let go lest the mood be broken and the momentary peace be disrupted. This past week has been a rollercoaster ride that neither wanted to dwell on. But they’ve managed to put their feelings out into the open, and all that’s left is to give time for both of them to digest the information and everything that’s happened. But one thing’s clear, they aren’t leaving the other’s side any time soon.

Brian checks on them a while later only to find them fast asleep in each other’s arms. The Irishman smiles and leaves them be, gently closing the door behind him.

Brian walks down the hall, past the floor designated to be the bed chambers and heads straight to the office to inform Evan about the new tenants. Upon reaching the door, he knocks twice and then waits for an answer.

There’s a bit of shuffling inside, hasty footsteps, and then the door opens with a rather flushed Ryan leaving the room with a short nod of greeting towards Brian. The Irishman didn’t even get to return the greeting when Ryan quickly scurries away, probably back to the kitchen to finish chores or something.

Brian didn’t stop the teasing smirk he gave Evan as he entered the office. “Sorry for interrupting a private moment.”

Evan, looking less disheveled than Ryan, simply cleared his throat and asked a question, obviously trying to change the subject. “How’s Brock doing?”

Not interested to pursue the topic about Evan’s love life adventures and such, Brian decides to let him off the hook and answer the question. “Brock and Marcel finally got to talk things out. They’re both fine when I checked on ‘em. Although Brock still hasn’t eaten.

“That’s fine. We can try again tomorrow. Let them have their moment.”

“What if Brock still doesn’t want to eat? He’s so against hurting people after all.”

Evan looked thoughtful for a moment and then he answered, “Ok, how about you let me be the one to talk with Brock tomorrow?”

“Gladly.” Brian stated with a sigh of relief. “Does this mean I’m off of babysitting duty?”

“Yeah, for tomorrow at least.”

“Aww come on Evan. Been watching over Brock for more than a week, including the time before he’d been turned. At least give me a one week break.”

Evan sighed but still considered Brian’s argument. “Three days.”

“Six,” Brian haggled.

“Four.”

Brian shook his head. “No way, I ain’t going lower than six days .”

Evan’s eyes sharpened. “Five is the highest I’ll go. No more than that.”

Brian thinks it over and finally gives in. “Fine. I’ll take it. I’ll be back after five days.”

Evan raises a brow. “Off to somewhere?”

Brian grinned. “Of course. I’m spending my break outside of the mansion Evan. Why the hell would I spend a break in ‘ere?”

“You’re not going to where I think you’re going are you?” Evan asked, not too thrilled that Brian was leaving for an extended period to _that _place.

“Lighten up Evan. We’re like hundreds of years old. This is my only source of enjoyment in our currently boring and uneventful lifestyle, let me have it,” expounded Brian.

“I’m not saying you can’t go. I just want you to be careful. I don’t want anyone finding out about us.”

The explanation brings the smile back on Brian’s face. “You can count on me,” he assured with a wink and off he went.

  



	15. Day 16, 17, & 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Crow, Graveyard, Masks
> 
> Characters: Tyler [Wildcat], Anthony [BigJigglyPanda]

-=-=-=-=-=-

_Ring._

_ Ring._

_ Ring._

_“Hello? Wildcat speaking.”_

_ A pause._

_ “Alright. How many are you ordering?”_

_ Another pause._

_ “Ok. Same pick-up point. Same time. Thursday this week.”_

-=-=-=-=-=-

“The car’s ready,” informed a shorter man, wearing a Panda mask, as he entered Wildcat’s office.

Wildcat adjusted his own pig mask before facing Panda. “Ok. Let’s get going. We have a larger order this time around, better finish this as soon as possible.”

The two men leave the office, heading straight to the garage and riding the van.

“Where are we heading?” Panda asked.

“Section G, L, and S. Scouts report spotting large groups of crows around those areas.”

Panda nodded, driving the car out of the garage and into the empty dirt road.

-=-=-=-=-=-

A mist formed outside the mask each time he breathed out due to the cold night air, but Wildcat wasn’t bothered, the act of digging working him up enough to keep his body warm. Panda didn’t seem to be having a problem either. The sound of shovel hitting dirt was almost therapeutic, a rhythmic beat brief resounding with each dig. They continue to dig until the shovel hits something solid.

_Score._

Both of them quickly work to clear the soil away from that solid surface. It didn’t take long before the surface is cleared from dirt and they carefully remove the cover, revealing the prize underneath.

This will be the last one needed to fulfill the order, once they get this in the back of the van they’ll be heading home. Wildcat reached for the bag and bagged their prize.

Hoisting the bag up out of the hole, Wildcat comments, “Let’s cover this up and that’ll be the last.”

“Finally, I don’t think I can dig anymore after this.”

Panda gets out, pulling the rest of the bag out of the hole while Wildcat puts the cover back. Once Wildcat is out of the hole both of them quickly fill the hole back up, drag the bag back to the van along with all their tools, and quickly leave.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Getting back to base didn’t take too long, and the process was just as easily finished considering the amount of work they had to do anyway.

“Fuck, I’m covered in blood,” curses Panda as he tries to wash off as much blood from his hands as possible. “I might actually prefer digging than chopping all of these up.”

“Well, me too. But someone’s gotta do the job,” Wildcat agreed, wrapping the last batch of meat into an icebox.

After cleaning up and storing all the sorted parts into different containers with ice, the van is now filled to the brim and Wildcat finally makes the call.

“We’re on our way.”

_“Noted. The payment will be there as soon as you deliver.”_

As quick as that call is finished and Wildcat enters the van.

Manning the wheel Panda asks, “Where we off to?”

_“Crumbles.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from Day 9: Crumble


	16. Author's Note

Thanks to everyone who've given this fic compilation attention, kudos, and comments, I appreciate them all!

Thanks again to Echoinghowls for the prompt list! I've had a blast writing while applying different prompts.

However,it's sad to say that last chapter is where I stop due to the following reasons:

  * I didn't write chapters in advance
  * I'm a slow writer
  * I tend to exceed 500 words per chapter and spend a lot of time writing and editing, etc.
  * I feel like some of the stories don't fit my standard but they were still posted (they got a lot of problems xD)
  * I'm running out of inspiration and motivation

Having said that, I still enjoyed the challenge and don't regret joining at all. It was really fun while it lasted :D


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